Michael D’s age would slow him down if he competes in next race for the Park
WE MUST all learn from Bono. U2’s latest album ‘Songs of Experience’ was inspired by an unrevealed near-death experience. The lyrics face up to his mortality, expressing the depth of his love for his nearest and dearest. As we journey through life, we encounter stark reminders that none of us is getting out of here alive. As time runs out, it becomes more precious.
Conversely, the secret to immortality is to die in your prime. Forever remembered as perpetually youthful are actors James Dean and River Phoenix, and singers Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse. Princess Diana’s death contrasts with the Queen Mother’s demise, due to the pain of premature passing.
There’s nothing worse than the groggy boxer clinging on to yesteryear’s career – Muhammad Ali, Evander Holyfield and Mike Tyson were reduced to journeymen status when, no longer in their prime, they risked all on another round. Knowing when to go, ahead of the final curtain, is an essential skill in shaping your legacy. In broadcasting media, Pat Kenny said: “You never retire, audiences give you up – retire you.”
Politicians, especially the most successful, suffer from the same syndrome of not letting go. Then they’re ousted unceremoniously and without dignity. Surrounded by their most sycophantic acolytes, the main players often don’t get to hear the murmurs of the middle ground sensing the careerbell has tolled. Maggie Thatcher, Bertie Ahern and Tony Blair had all passed their leadership sell-by dates a few years before they were ousted.
Unlike public servants, there’s no mandatory career span or age to receive gold watches for politicos. The art of departure is a special self-awareness skill. Getting out ahead of the curve ensures a kinder legacy and more favourable reviews. The price of hanging around is an ignominious end.
Poor timing in making a call on retirement can be caused by a big ego or an unchecked appetite for the public representative’s lifestyle. The public gaze never leaves you. Doing the most mundane things like shopping or painting your front gate can seem peculiarly odd to strangers. Post public life, you fear being left to a reclusive life.
This brings us, granted somewhat circuitously, to Michael D Higgins, and speculation that he’ll seek a second term as President, that is, beyond November 2018. Despite his previous pledges to serve as a solitaryterm President, he’s obviously contemplating seven more years in the Park. By “not ruling it in or out” he’s definitely flying a U-turn kite, testing the winds of public sentiment.
One poll (Ireland Thinks) indicates there’s 76pc public support for Michael D to stay. My own instinctive initial reaction was along similar lines. But on further reflection, one wonders if that instant sample is about as durable as the morning fog. The context is the pervading apathy about the office of the President – voters want neither the bother nor the distraction of a presidential campaign or election. And then there’s the absence of alternative candidates.
Nobody has confirmed their candidacy or even secured a nomination. Most putative pretenders are as yet coy about formally declaring their interest – unlike Michael D himself, who actively sought the post publicly for several years prior to his election, both within the Labour Party and in politics generally.
The key concern for Michael D’s second term option is whether he’ll be unopposed. That was the contextual impetus for Mary
McAleese and Paddy Hillery when they secured uncontested coronations for 14 consecutive years, respectively in 2004 and 1983. Politics has transformed since that era. Then we had an establishment ethos, whereby a consensus of the Fianna Fáil, Fine Gael and Labour parties meant de facto, it wasn’t viable for another nominee to have realistic prospects. Candidate credibility and entry was quite controllable. These parties abhor a contest, with costs up to a million euro; there’s no upside or lasting party-gain from victory.
What’s changed is the fact that circa 40pc of voters no longer pledge allegiance to those parties of continuous coalition governments. The most favourable combined recent poll totals (61pc) of Fine Gael at 30pc, Fianna Fáil 26pc and Labour 5pc are higher than their 2014 local election (56pc) or 2016 general election tally (52pc).
Sinn Féin, assorted left-wing groups and Independents have sufficient public representatives on county/city councils and the Oireachtas to nominate a handful of presidential ponies in the race to the Áras.
AN essential point to bear in mind in looking at the October 2018 presidency is that the threshold for a nomination is extremely low. You just need to bag four councils out of 31 in total to secure a run at the prize. Alternatively, an assorted group of 20 TDs or senators is enough to get on the ballot paper.
The idea is to keep the door ajar for local authority members to contribute to the democratic participative process, plus this comes without any subsequent obligation to vote for the nominee.
It’s a sort of voter facilitation call, without having to make a total commitment. As such, it ought to represent a slam-dunk opportunity for prospective wannabes.
The stable of potential candidates is endless: there are the restless retirees such as Bertie Ahern, Enda Kenny, and soon-to-be Gerry Adams. Then there are the previously thwarted applicants: Fergus Finlay, Mairead McGuinness, Seán Gallagher, before one even considers the independent campaigners Gerard Craughwell, Michael Fitzmaurice, Brendan Ogle; celebrities Miriam O’Callaghan, Bob Geldof, Olivia O’Leary; plus any number of wild card candidates that could summon a zeitgeist surge of popularity like, for instance, Sgt Maurice McCabe, should the mood take.
Michael D was born on April 18, 1941. He’ll be 77 years old if re-elected – so he could potentially still be serving at 84 years. Those dismissing the issue of his veteran status as discriminatory ‘ageism’ may be politically correct, but they’re not being entirely realistic. Michael D’s age could be problematic when the national retirement benchmark is (at most) 68 years. His age has also got the potential to inhibit future energy levels. This isn’t a Papal process after all.
Michael D has had a distinguished career as a minister, TD, senator, academic, sociologist, author and poet. As President, he’s superseded all expectations – conducting himself as the nation’s father figure; political, social conscience; dignified, diplomatic state ambassador abroad; humorous happy dignitary for domestic commemorative, official and all sporting occasions.
That said, given the near certainty of a contest, thanks to the open-to-practically-all nomination process, it’s unwise for Michael D to contemplate hanging on. For his own and Sabina’s sake, he should make the retirement announcement soon. And revel in a deserved final glorious lap of honour.